


What a Wonderful World

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: College-Age AU, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-09 11:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14715434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It was hot and muggy both inside and outside of Bobby’s Bar and Fries.The Summer was coming to a close, a new semester and year beginning for the students of the nearby college.With all that in mind, Castiel Novak, a repeat student of Monterey University, was ordering three different types of alcohol from a peculiarly long-haired bartender.Half-drunk and tired, Cas was lost.It was stuffy and humid inside of Bobby's.Dean didn't notice the Summer pass by. He'd dropped out ages ago.He did notice, however, the different feeling that this gig had from the rest. Going through the music was boring and normal.But when the chords to Thunderstruck came on, Dean was lost.





	1. Chapter 1

_ I looked out this morning and the sun was gone _

_ OOO _

 

It was hot and muggy both inside and outside of Bobby’s Bar and Fries.

The Summer was coming to a close, a new semester and year beginning for the students of the nearby college.

With all that in mind, Castiel Novak, a repeat student of Monterey University, was ordering three different types of alcohol from a peculiarly long-haired bartender.

“You okay, man?” the bartender scratched at the scruff on his chin, raising an eyebrow at the man in question. “Vodka,  _ Blue Moon _ , and  _ Carlsberg _  seem like a sad combo if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Been better...” Cas replied shortly, glancing at the bartender’s name tag that was clipped to his flannel shirt. “...Sam.” Sam looked down at his name tag with a shrug.

“I’ll get you something a bit less killer,” he decided, reaching for a bottle of... some type of alcohol or other. Music from a live band rolled around the sleepy bar (as any bar should be the day before a new school year). Cas accepted a glass of brownish liquid with a muttered thanks, taking a long swig and turning around in his bar stool.

The band playing was called the  _ Wendigos.  _ Unusual name, Cas reflected. The lead singer was a tall guy with a haphazardly bored expression. His voice was okay, to be honest. Nothing special there. He was kinda cute if Castiel looked hard enough.

The drummer had a mad look in her eyes, playing with a wide grin as she banged on the skins laid out around her. Her wavy brown hair frizzed out around her black leather jacket. A nose ring glinted in the cheap bar spotlights.

The keyboarder… well, Cas wasn’t sure about her. She seemed to be playing stiffly as if she didn't enjoy it. However, her gaze lit up every time it landed on the bass guitarist. 

The bass player was ignorant of her longing stares, completely absorbed by the song. His foot tapped on the stage as the chorus rolled around, an enraptured grin crossing his face as he sang back up. A Grin That Lit Up The Entire Room type smile.

_ “ _ _ It's alright, we're doin' fine _

_ It's alright, we're doin' fine, fine, fine _

_ Thunderstruck, yeah, yeah, yeah _

_ Thunderstruck, Thunderstruck _

_ Thunderstruck, baby, baby _

_ Thunderstruck, you've been Thunderstruck” _  Cas watched the singer belt out the familiar ACDC song, but his eyes kept flitting back to the bass. Out of all the musicians, he seemed to be the most caught up in the lyrics.

The melody finished almost all too soon, and before Castiel knew it, the band was packing up.

“The Wendigos are pretty good, right?” Cas whipped around to see Sam leaning on the bar and eyeing the band as they packed away the drums. He shrugged, silently agreeing with Sam, who continued to speak. “The lead singer is Balthazar, the owner of the moldy record shop down by the fire station. The drummer is Meg. She’s…” Cas followed Sam’s eyes to see Meg snickering at a joke cracked by the bassist.

“Eccentric?” Castiel supplied quietly. Sam nodded.

“The keyboarder is Lisa… she’s obsessed with my brother. The bass guitarist, Dean,” Sam finished his explanation. As if he heard them, Dean looked over to where Sam and Cas were talking, still sweaty from the spotlights.

Castiel locked eyes with Dean.

Dean shot him a grin and a wave.    
Cas looked away and downed the rest of his drink. He’d need it to go through the rest of the night.

As Dean walked over to the bar, he looked at Castiel with some interest. Climbing onto the bar stool, he shot Sam a smirk.

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean’s voice was nothing like when he sang, Cas realized. More scratchy and less musical. “Thanks again for giving us our weekly gigs. Without ‘em, we’d probably still be playing out of Balthie’s garage.”

“Eh, no issue. You know Bobby pretends to hate the music, but he loves you guys,” Sam gave a good-natured smile as he cleaned a beer glass with a white cloth.

“Bal _ thazar _ ,” a voice rose from where they were packing up the equipment. Dean waved him off with his hand, leaning on the bar with his forearms.    
“So who’s the grouch over there and why’s he moping?” Dean asked Sam, jabbing a finger at Cas. The man in question bristled.

“I can hear you, you know,” he snapped, eyes narrowing at the mahogany bar below him. “My ears still work.”

“So, answer the question,” Dean shot back, eyes glinting with amusement. Cas groaned, chugging down the rest of his mystery drink.

“If you have to know, I’m getting over Simultaneous Unemployment and Break-Up Syndrome,” Cas managed to spill. Maybe it was from the alcohol running through his blood, or the sheer need to vent. Either way, he was explaining his life’s story to a total stranger. Dean let out an impressed whistle, Sam walking off to shout angrily at Meg (You can  _ not  _ wrestle Balthazar, we have customers!).

“Why’d she dump you?” Dean asked, standing up a little to grab a beer from the other side of the bar. Castiel glared at him.

“It was mutual,” he coldly said, looking away. “She found out I was bi. Told me she didn't want competition from both women  _ and  _ men. I told her I didn't want to date a homophobe.”

“Ah,” Dean drank a long sip of beer, glancing sideways. “Yeah. I wouldn’t know. I’m straight. So, how’d you get fired?”

“I quit the night job,” Castiel sighed as he continued. “It didn't pay nearly enough, and I need a constant cash flow now that I’m living alone.”

“Well,” Dean hesitated to finish his thoughts, watching Cas’ ruffled expression change to one of curiosity. “Maybe I can hook you up with a job. Do you have any experience being a waiter?” Castiel’s head shot up from his slumped position.

“A little, when I was in high school,” Cas slowly replied. “Where will you find me a job as a _  waiter _ ? And with good pay? I just met you!”

“So?” Dean raised an eyebrow. He turned around on his bar stool to see Sam and Meg arguing over some insignificant problem. “Sam, I found your new waiter!” Sam turned around, confusion written on his face as Dean pointed to Cas.

“Oh,” Sam mumbled while he walked hurriedly away from Meg, who, in turn, pouted and started to listen to an avid conversation between Balthazar and Lisa. “So what hours can he work?”

“Uh, this is pretty sudden?” Castiel sheepishly tried to interject. “I just came here to drink my feelings. This is a lot.” The brothers ignored him.

“He’s a student of MU, so you’ll have to correlate it with his class schedules,” Dean observed from Cas’ student ID. That he held. In his hand.

“Hey, that was in my pocket!” Cas panicked, patting his pocket. It was empty. “Are you a pickpocket?” Dean ignored him yet again.

“So how many hours will he have to put in, and what’ll be his pay?” Dean demanded.    
“Uh… if it’ll work, he can come on Sundays from six to ten and Thursdays from six to eight,” Sam determined off the top of his head. “And Fridays from seven to ten.”

“I’m sitting right here, you assbutts,” Castiel finally loudly interjected. Dean and Sam both turned to face him with stunned expressions. Cas reddened when he realized what he had said. After moments of silence, Dean broke it.

“Assbutt?” He choked out as if holding back laughter. Sam snorted. Cas groaned, bringing his hands to his face.

“I’m half drunk on some weird vodka-beer, aren’t I,” he mumbled. Sam was full-on laughing now, and Dean was smirking ear-to-ear.

“That’s for me to know,” Sam replied. “And if you can come on Thursdays, Fridays, and Sundays, you’ve got the job. The pay is fifteen dollars an hour. Pretty high for a crappy sports bar.” Cas sat eerily still, Dean watching his frozen face with suspense.

“I...I’ll take it,” he snatched his student ID back from Dean and shoved it into his pocket, absentmindedly wondering what he was getting into.

“Great,” Sam smiled a bit. “So, what’s your name? I’ll need to write it down for Bobby.”

“I’m Castiel,” Cas stuck out his hand, Sam shaking it enthusiastically. “Castiel Novak. So do I just show up on Thursday?”

“Yup,” Sam popped the ‘p’, taking a waiter’s notebook from his jean pocket and scribbling down Castiel’s name. “I’ll be here to show you the ropes, along with Jess and Adam.” Sam dug a white card from his other pocket and wrote down a phone number.

“Call me with any questions. We don’t have business cards at a bar,” Sam said. Castiel took the paper and folded it crisply in half, sliding it into the pocket with his ID.

“Thanks, both of you,” Castiel spoke to Dean and Sam. “I guess half of my problems are done for the night.”

“And you get to see more of us,” Dean cheekily replied. “Can’t imagine anything better.”

“Yeah, right,” Cas scoffed, pulling his trenchcoat off the back of his bar stool and getting to his feet. “Bye, then.” His steps were quick as he hurried out, eager to end the night and it's slow pace.

“Later, Cas,” Dean called after him as he walked out of the door. The bell jingled as the door thudded closed.

“Interesting character,” Sam remarked, walking behind the bar and grabbing a grey rag. Dean watched as he cleaned the counter in a steady motion.  _ Swish. Swish. Swish. _

“Honestly? I find him kinda boring,” Dean muttered. “Just a sob story of a guy.”

“Yeah, that’s why you went out of your way to get him a night job,” Sam sarcastically snipped.

Dean stood up to head back to his band without another word.

 

_ OOO _

 

_ Turned on some music to start my day _


	2. Highway to Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balthazar's a flirt.  
> Dean's an oaf.  
> Cas is on a one-way Highway to Hell.

_No stop signs, speed limit_

 

_OOO_

 

Castiel’s eyes roamed the sports bar lazily from where he sat on a barstool, the very same one he sat on when he had gotten the job. It had been around two weeks since he’d started work there. Much to his surprise, being a waiter was far from relaxed and comfortable.

Now he understood the high pay.

Bobby, the bar owner, was a more than pissed when he’d heard an employee had been hired without him.

“Whaddya mean ya hired a _newbie_?!” He had sputtered when Cas first arrived. Cas froze in fear at Bobby’s narrowed eyes, a tendril of spit trailing down his face from when the man had shouted.

“He’s willing to work for the hours we set,” Sam calmly said, much to Castiel’s surprise. “He’ll do great. He’s experienced.” Bobby didn't seem to relax. He kept eyeing Cas, who squirmed under his stare.

“Keep in mind that if you so much as take _one_ dollar from us, I know how to shoot a gun,” Bobby threatened to a still silent Cas. Cas had nodded vigorously. Bobby walked away.

Two weeks later, Bobby still only tolerated him.

Jess and Adam were nice and treated Cas much better than Bobby had. In fact, even the chef, Ellen, was nicer than Bobby.

“Our only uniform is a black apron,” Sam had said, handing Cas an apron from where he stood behind the bar. “I’m a bartender, so I’m not really briefed on what you do. But Adam and Jess can help.” He gestured behind Cas, who turned around to see a blonde woman and a lanky teenager.

“Hey, I’m Jess,” the woman stuck out her had with a kind smile. Cas accepted her hand and shook it. He’d never been particularly good with women.

“I’m Adam,” the teen cut in, a lopsided grin playing off of his lips as he shook Castiel’s hand.

When the other waiters introduced him to Ellen, he was confused. She was an intimidating woman who fired out empty threats, yet somehow still managed to cook delicate feather-light dishes. Cas swore he could eat her filet every day for the rest of the year and never get sick of it. Adam was notoriously clumsy and joked around with customers, always trying his hardest and slipping up repeatedly. Jess was patient, hardworking, and studious- she and Cas often quizzed each other on their courses when it got slow.

_The Wendigos_ stopped by every Sunday from six to ten. Lisa was always sweet to Cas, while Meg just ignored him or made snarky comments. Dean always made sure to have a few conversations with Castiel. The bassist was extremely funny when he wanted to be.

Balthazar, however, made Cas confused.

The lead singer would _shamelessly_ flirt with him. Constantly. Between songs, when Cas was on break, even when they were setting up. He was sweet and all, but they had just met. So Cas, unsure what to do, responded by _just barely_ reciprocating his actions.

“Castiel!” _Speak of the devil._ Cas was snapped out of his train of thoughts by a familiar scruffy face and British accent. “You look absolutely dashing today! Is that a new tie?”

“Leave me alone, I’m tired,” Cas complained. “And this is getting old.”

“I’m hurt,” Balthazar put a hand over his heart, mock in his expression. “I’ve been complimenting you and singing for your entertainment for two whole Sundays, the least you could do is take me out for dinner.” He winked at the last statement, eliciting an exasperated sigh from Cas.

“I only have five minutes left on my break,” Cas said with a slack expression. “I’m starved. I’d never complain at your compliments ever again if you got _me_ dinner.” Castiel’s eyes widened. Balthazar’s eyes did as well. A grin took over his face.

“How about it, then?” Balthazar wiggled his eyebrows. Cas snorted at the ridiculous gesture, averting his eyes. Balthazar seemed so hopeful, and Cas couldn’t say ‘no’ to the kind man. Well, I have no reason _to say no anyway._

“Fine,” Cas said. Balthazar smiled. A Grin That Lit Up His Face type smile. Not the same as Dean, but his own.

“I’ll meet you tomorrow at seven at the Moldy Record Shop,” Balthazar promised as he spun away, waving to Cas giddily as he hopped back to the wooden stage where the band was about to start another song. Castiel grumbled to himself as he stood from the barstool, checking his watch. Break had ended two minutes ago. Slightly panicky now, he hurried over to report to Ellen in the kitchen.

* * *

 

The date with Balthazar was a disaster. And that was an understatement.

Cas had shown up late, his trench coat drenched in a combination of gas and rainwater. A car had doused him when he was walking to his car, spraying up a puddle from the rainfall last night. Balthazar laughed so hard that he was wheezing.

“You look like a soaked cat,” he had hooted, helping Cas inside the record shop to store his coat. “I have a towel behind the counter.” Cas had just grimaced, shivering in place.

The drive to the restaurant had been kind of awkward, with Balthazar talking endlessly and Catstiel simply listening. Balthazar talked about _everything._ His neighbor’s dog, his grandma’s slippers, the misprinted logo on the cereal box. His family was also the main topic. Apparently, he had a sister named Anna and a brother, Uriel.

Anything was interesting to him.   
God, Cas was bored out of his wits by the time they made it to the restaurant. When they did make it, they were late for their reservation. The restaurant was fairly understanding and sat them at a new table. Even though it was closer to the kitchens and bathrooms, Balthazar didn't seem to mind. Instead, he laughed it off. It seemed that Balthazar did that about everything.

Cas made a fool of himself at dinner, spilling water down the front of his tie and losing his napkin mid-meal. Balthazar just kept laughing. Cas felt his awkwardness mount even more.

On the walk back to the car, Balthazar was giggling the whole way. It was odd to hear a full grown man _giggle._ Castiel found himself snort a little. The drive home actually was full of two-way conversation. Cas felt himself smile more, echoing Balthazar’s joyful expression.

When they reached Cas’ apartment door, he may have allowed a kiss.

Just one.

Cas escaped to his apartment after, running to squeal into his pillow like a teenage girl.

Balthazar’s footsteps sounded lighter as they retreated down the hall.

* * *

  


The next time Castiel was at Bobby’s, it was a Thursday. It was fairly slow, as opposed to busier Sundays and Fridays.

Cas kept glancing at the empty stage and smiling. Just small smiles he couldn’t seem to stop.

“You seem happy,” Sam had remarked from where he was pouring a scotch for one of the usual drunks. “Who put the bounce in your step?”   
“Balthazar,” Cas hummed without thinking as he wiped off a dark-wood table. He jolted to realization. “Oh. Wait-” He frowned as Sam burst out laughing.

“We all know,” Sam said quickly, snatching a black iPhone from his apron pocket. Cas stood stiffly, walking to peer down at Sam’s phone. Confusion was apparent on his face.

“Balthazar’s Facebook feed?” Cas questioned as Sam scrolled down a few posts. Realization struck him like lightning. A post spread out in front of the two, a simple one line announcing Balthazar’s date to the world.

_‘Cas and I went on a date, went well!’_ Fifteen (approximately) emoji hearts studded the post after it. Cas took the phone from Sam and looked at the comments.

‘Yay, Cas!’ That was Jess.

‘Didja move fast?’ Meg, of course.

‘Only took two weeks,’ Lisa’s snarky comment spouted happily.   
‘Lol’ Was Sam’s only reply. _What?_

‘Congrats’ Dean’s short reply didn't provide any emotion. Cas let out a small breath of relief. At least no one had gotten homophobic yet online. The rest of the comments were just small congratulations from what he assumed were Balthazar’s friends.

The only thing concerning him was that Balthazar’s family hadn’t said a single word on the glaring post.

Not one.

“Hey, Sam?” Cas handed the phone back to the person in question. “Why didn't Balthazar’s brother or sister respond? I mean, you’d think they’d at least reply shortly with hugs or kisses or whatever.” Sam froze awkwardly, obviously unsure how to answer the question.

“Well, uh,” he mumbled, pocketing the phone. “Um. That’s not really a question for me.” Cas’ eyes widened. He knew what that meant. _Oh shi-_

His thoughts were interrupted by a small 'jingle' _._ The door to Bobby’s had opened, bringing in more customers.

Castiel put on a cordial smile and rushed to greet them.

* * *

  


Cas worked on the Friday following. It was Sunday now, the beginning of a new week and pay day. He came in 15 minutes early to demonstrate work ethic (just as he did every Sunday), scrubbing tables and serving customers.

_The Wendigos_ were providing live music, of course. The current song was _Even Flow_ by _Pearl Jam._ Castiel’s head involuntarily bobbed to the music as he served customers, humming along. Balthazar had opted out of singing lead for that song, considering it was a bit too low for him. Dean was singing lead instead, playing an electric guitar while Balthazar took over for bass.

“Thoughts arrive like butterflies,” Dean sang with a grin, still energized at the start of the night. “Oh, he don’t know, so he chases them away.” The band’s music muffled as Cas swung through the silver doors of the kitchen. Ellen stood behind the oven next to Jo, her daughter. Jo was usually only called in to help on busier days, most often Sundays.

“We have an order for the pickle burger, two chocolate shakes, and a small filet with fries,” Cas read from the pad, ripping off the page and shoving it onto the pile of pending orders. “Jeez, we’re even more swamped than usual.”

“Tell me about it,” Ellen grumbled, flipping burgers on the griddle and passing the salt to Jo. “We’ve been working our tail-ends off back here and still have had problems getting out all the orders.”

“Mom’s been complaining even more than often,” Jo added with a small smile playing off her expression. “‘Specially about how she doesn’t have, quote unquote, ‘enough time to think.’”

“I have enough time to duct-tape that running mouth of yours,” Ellen warned, grabbing salt and dashing it over her burgers. “Watch yourself, young lady.” Jo shrugged, still smiling to herself.

“Right, then, I’ll bring out whatever you have ready,” Cas interjected into the banter.

“Two everything burgers for table three,” Ellen gestured with her chin to the two white plates barely balanced on the edge of the counter. Cas grabbed one in each hand and walked quickly out of the kitchen.

He was quickly stopped.

Rather forcefully stopped, in fact, by a wall of flannel and denim barreling into the kitchen and running him over. The burgers and plates crashed to the ground, Cas soon joining them.

“Woops. Sorry, Cas. Heh,” Dean bent over, offering out a hand to help Cas up from where he sat surrounded by ceramic shards and spread out burger meat. A grimace type grin was on Dean’s face.

“Crap!” Cas shrieked, ignoring Dean’s hand and scrambling to pick up the shards of cut ceramic. A few people were staring at the scene from around the restaurant, and Cas felt his face heat up. “It’s payday! The plates and food are coming out of my paycheck!”

“Oh,” Dean uttered, still standing and watching Cas scramble to pick up the pieces of the mess. “Oh. Uh.. sorry.”

“Sorry won’t fix the plates _or_ my paycheck,” Cas said snappishly. “Now help me clean this up, you big oaf.”

“Yeah.”

_OOO_

 

_Nobody’s gonna slow me down_


End file.
